She wakes up this morning dreaming of her own death. The early London light is creeping under the blinds, another grey September day, the usual hum of traffic on the distant highroad. Turning onto her side Violet throws an arm over the supine figure of her boyfriend, shuts her eyes and tries to return to that undiscovered world of dreams that she often longs to inhabit permanently.

To begin with, all she can hear is the rhythmic breath of Nat by her side and the lugubrious snores of their five month old puppy that has sneaked under their duvet yet again. Then the red retina mist fades and she is back in the dream, her heart pounding and her breath making smoke in front of her nose in the bitterly cold night air.

—— She is in a forest, trees spread out in regular lines in front of her and it’s a full moon night. There is something familiar about the place and she realises that she is not alone. Looking to her right and left shadowy figures flit through the trees carefully trying not to crunch the fallen leaves underfoot. They are spread out in lines and although she can’t see them Violet knows that these people are her friends. It’s quiet, really quiet, just the sharp intake of her breath and the numb cold of the night air hitting her nose and fingers, her feet have turned to ice although the hot flush of adrenaline pounding through her chest stops her from feeling the cold. They have reached the edge of a clearing and in front of them is an open field with a large house looming in the distance. Again she gets the feeling that she knows this place, but a sudden low drone from above stops her thoughts. She has a job to do and as the underbelly of a plane moves into view the figures file across the field, torches in hand swinging large arcs of red light into the air for the pilot to see. The plane makes a low pass and then the second time over, the belly opens to release a plethora of metal canisters into the air on white parachutes that open like falling angels , falling like promises, and she is running towards them her face lifted to the sky a triumphant smile bursting from her lips.—–

She kicks out, her foot hits soft flesh and the puppy yelps. Again its daylight and London, 8.20 am and she has to get up.